


Crazy Ex-Boyfriend

by BraveKate



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Is Rebecca Is A Mess, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst and Humor, Biphobia, Bittersweet, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend AU, Dark Comedy, Explicit Language, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Romance, just imagine Simon singing the bi song that's all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 05:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BraveKate/pseuds/BraveKate
Summary: “I swear I’ll find out why you moved here. You can’t hide from me! You can’t run! You’re on my radar, Lightwood!” Jace whisper-screamed, and proceeded to back out of the office kitchenette like a ridiculous cartoon, all while making the “I’m watching you” gesture.Alec didn’t know how to react to that, so he just boggled his eyes out in silence.What could he say? “I left my prestigious job with guaranteed career growth in a successful New York firm for the itty-bitty Lewis & Associates in this barely-on-the-map town of Idris, California, because a billboard broke”?Even if that was exactly what happened.***Crazy Ex-Girlfriend AU with Alec as Rebecca and Magnus as non-asshole Josh.





	Crazy Ex-Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so. This is A Thing.
> 
> IT FITS PERFECTLY OKAY

“I swear I’ll find out why you moved here. You can’t hide from me! You can’t run! You’re on my radar, Lightwood!” Jace whisper-screamed, and proceeded to back out of the office kitchenette like a ridiculous cartoon, all while making the “I’m watching you” gesture. 

Alec didn’t know how to react to that, so he just boggled his eyes out in silence.

What could he say? “I left my prestigious job with guaranteed career growth in a successful New York firm for the itty-bitty Lewis & Associates in this barely-on-the-map town of Idris, California, because a billboard broke”?

Even if that was exactly what happened.

Just a month ago, he had been sitting in an alley, right on the ground, trying to ward off a panic attack. “I’m happy, I’m so happy,” the chocked off whisper had kept gushing out. Maryse and Robert had inflicted that happiness upon him by declaring his promotion to junior partner. Junior partner! The first day of the rest of his life! He had celebrated by staring down the pills spilt from their orange container, and by being absolutely sure of his oncoming imminent death.

In that moment, Alec had prayed for a sign. 

Across the road, above a butter ad (“When was the last time you were happy”? Seriously?), blindingly yellow against the gray mass of New York, an arrow had tilted with a screech. It had pointed at where a sunbeam had spilled from above like a stage light to illuminate Magnus Bane, the routinely beautiful summer god who had just then turned a corner to stand at a crosswalk. He looked every bit as stunning as he did in high school, gliding down the halls as if they were his runway; pressing dizzying happiness between Alec’s lips with his own, crowding him against any vertical surface available. Magnus Bane, so tender and understanding, who nodded through the entirety of Alec’s well-versed “The Importance of Focusing on Future Career” speech (curtsy of Maryse).

Alec hadn’t seen Magnus Bane in ten years, and at that moment it had become crystal clear – that’s when he was happy for the last time. Backed into a locker, Magnus’s fingers interlacing with his own; in a spicy-smelling lettermen jacket, too wide in the shoulders, licking the taste of strawberry gum from the pierced tongue of its owner. Before his parents bulldozed that innocent relationship with their standards, Alec even purchased a pair of promise rings. He was going to surprise Magnus after prom, and ended up throwing them out of his dad’s car window on the way to Massachusetts instead.

He threw his happiness away with them, helpless and defenseless before familial expectations, just like thin bands of sterling silver under the wheels passing by.

As an adult, kneeling over a pool of tranquilizers and beta-blockers, with sweet mirage of Magnus so close, Alec had decided to be happy again. He had poured all his might, all his will into that resolution. He’d been robbed of it for so long; well, no more!

He had stood up, he had gone to the intersection, he had pretended to accidently bump into Magnus on the crosswalk. Magnus’s smile had been just as filthy and smooth as Alec’s mind preserved it in candy-colored dreamscape. The man himself smelled differently now, smoky sweetness accompanying the spice. He, as it turned out, had been busy relocating his business from East Coast to California.

Alec had played it cool, even if his heart had sunk at the news. He’d made a decision, he saw an opportunity, and Lightwoods never gave up easily.

“Oh, really?” He had asked, smiling back. “Where to?”

One thing led to another, and a week – just a week! – later Alec was across the country, convincing his dorkling of a boss to ignore the unholy overqualification of Alec’s resume, and subletting half a condo from a redheaded hipster. He hadn’t bothered with referral to a local doctor. He had no pills left. His parents were not talking to him, possibly ever again.

Magnus Bane, regardless of the town’s snow globe size, was nowhere to be found.

Instead, Jace fucking Wayland popped up everywhere Alec went or even merely looked, probably latching onto Alec’s “mystery” out of sheer boredom. Jace was blond and smug and vaguely James Dean-ish, a new colleague who could have become a lawyer himself, but lacked either motivation or discipline. Or both. Alec’s recent personal history consisted of bedding guys his type in a long sad chain of one-night stands. He might have caught a little crush if Jace wasn’t so deeply straight and repulsing in his personal habits. Not to mention, creepily obsessed with “solving” Alec’s life.

And if it wasn’t for Magnus Bane. Of course.

***

Alec’s place in Idris was just like his old apartment in New York, copy-pasted almost to the last monochromatic Ikea cabinet, to the tiniest generic trinket over the fake fireplace. No more than three a shelf, plus a photo frame to balance it out – The Code of Maryse demanded it be so. Alec liked to think he stuck to the thing out of nostalgia, but it was probably more realistically fear.

He rebelled and stepped out of his comfort zone with the couch, though.

Couches in Lightwood household were almost exclusively decorative; rarely, they served as passive-aggressive torture devices for guests during tea parties and after dinners. Couches were _not_ for leisure or relaxing and definitely _not_ for sleeping on. They weren’t meant to be comfortable.

Alec bought the most comfortable one he could find, wide and soft, in impractical “Polar Fur” shade of white. On his second day in Idris, after employing himself at “Lewis & Associates” almost by force, he had pushed his purchase closer to the condo’s panoramic windows, plopped on the pillows, and stretched out. It had felt amazing, like freedom and lavishness. He then had jumped up to pace anxiously for three hours before sending Magnus a text.

 _Funny story, got an amazing opportunity in Idris, was urgently moved up here. Small world, huh? Strange, how life works. Anyway, you know any good places to hang around the area? Help a guy out!_ It had been the best he could agree with himself on.

Following this gem, exhausted but on edge with anticipation, he had went back to his couch to wait. His only company – a can of Pringles and some well-loved re-runs.

Then, suddenly, cheery morning sunbeams had woken him. There had been a crick in Alec’s neck and drool under his cheek; sharp crumbs had crept below his t-shirt and inside his boxers. He had slept on the couch. Take that, mom.

Magnus had never answered.

***

…and Alec managed to cultivate some hazy dreams. Hopes, even. Either something in local water or in the warm Californian wind obviously messed with his unprepared brain and damaged the clear mind of a megalopolis dweller. So, there he was, sweaty and hair unwashed, clad in an old pilling tank top with holes near its collar and under arms, sporting a giant coffee stain across the abdomen. An angry-looking rush from water he was unaccustomed to still covered his cheeks after the last attempt at shaving, and the new stubble grew out in patches – he hasn’t been able to get rid of it yet. So yeah, there he was. Standing in a mini-market aisle between chips and chocolate, both of which filled his plastic blue basket. Standing and watching, as Magnus Bane passionately frenched a top-model near an open ice cream freezer. Condensation mist rolled around their legs in waves, like melting dry ice in a music video.

He backed her into the shelves in exact same way he used to do with Alec.

“Hey, man,” said a bored voice behind him. “You’re blocking my snacks, please move?”

Alec came to and jumped in place, surprised. The voice belonged to a compact-looking guy – hot, if a bit on the pale side. His dark soulful eyes and striking facial features conveyed general exasperation with all things Alec. For a fraction of a second Alec felt as if he himself was barely the height of the shelves around and didn’t tower over them like a stupid giant that he was in reality. 

Which presented a problem. Because he couldn’t move past the guy in such narrow isle – someone was already back there. And stepping out towards the freezers would make Alec painfully visible to everybody, Magnus included. He never planned for their first meeting in Idris to go like… this. With all the sodium in his recent diet, the amount of water he retained was probably painfully obvious. On top of everything else.

“Well?” The pale guy was starting to look pretty impatient.

There was no choice. As quickly as his sluggish junk food brain let him, Alec decided to step towards the freezers and make a left turn, away from Magnus and his tonsil hockey partner, to hide in the neighboring aisle. It would only be a second. He would survive. He took a step.

“Shit, what?! There is no more sour cream and onion left?” Came a loud exclaim.

Alec almost made it. The couple kissing in his peripheral vision startled, but he knew he could still escape unscathed.

Except the guy had another idea.

“Man, wait! Yeah, the tall dude! You took all the sour cream and onion?”

Alec tried to run for it, but the guy grabbed at his basket, and everything came to a messy halt. In a desperate attempt to salvage the situation Alec blindly thrust the damn chips packet towards his pursuer – he could spare one of three, yes; but in his rush he missed, and it fell to the floor. They both went to pick it up. Alec bumped into some merchandise, his basket tilted and spilled Mars bars everywhere. Disaster levels climbed past mild to severe. Naturally, that’s when Magnus came over.

“Alec?” He asked, amused. Alec knew it was him even before he spoke, because he possessed a Magnus radar, and the hairs down his neck and arms stood up as if electrified. He also recognized those polished designer shoes from all the extensive Instagram stalking.

He raised his head and helplessly looked up.

Magnus’s beauty Alec so easily gave up was painful to observe. It shone in his big kind eyes, in an elegant way his slender fingers curled around a jacket button to undo it before he crouched beside Alec. The skin of his lid, uncreased from his soft brow to the gentle fan of eyelashes sweeping from under it. Alec’s breath caught somewhere along his windpipe.

Magnus was all the more beautiful with a tan, petite, and refined stranger by his side.

***

Camille Belcourt would not be caught dead even standing near a pilling fabric. Or wearing something with holes not overpriced by Urban Outfitters. Her shiny hair arranged itself into perfectly relaxed beach waves, and she smelled like spa and vacation. Her bronzed skin looked softer than velvet felt. There were crystals on her person, everywhere, but in a tasteful, calculatedly understated way.

“Honey bun, we do not party like we used to,” she sighed. Her long, sculptured leg was casually draped over Magnus’s lap. The dress skirt of creamy lace only started in time to prevent critical butt cheek exposure.

“Hm-m-m,” Magnus smiled at his girlfriend, small and dreamy. His fingers run up and down her tan arm; microscopic golden shimmers shifted under his touch. “Pride is soon, there will be plenty of parties then.”

“Oh, we’re doing that again?”

“I attend every year. As always, you are welcome to join me.”

“I don’t get why you have to go, though?” Camille’s tone was teasing, but her face conveyed real bewilderment. She was playfully scratching Magnus’s nape as if petting a cat. “You have me now.”

“You know very well it isn’t how this works, dear.”

Alec’s gaze slipped to their left, where Ragnor was eye-rolling from behind his facepalm at Catarina across the table. The sight squeezed a silent laugh out of Raphael – Alec felt its vibrations, as he was smooshed and sandwiched between him and Cat on, essentially, a loveseat. The group huddled on a patio of what passed for a hip café around here, sipping icy drinks under a canopy. Camille’s idea: she wanted some new Instagram-worthy shots or that trendy geofilter on her snaps or something. 

Alec hated this kind of locations even back in New York, where Izzy and his job made him attend the actual it-places on the regular. Avoiding them was an unexpected bonus of this improvised downshifting. But he bend over backwards to be near Magnus already; what is being inconvenienced for a couple of hours compared to switching coasts? He had invited himself over yesterday with the same determination he’s gotten his new job, right in the middle of that minimarket. Witnessed by all Magnus’s friends, the promise of calling him was harder to ignore than Alec’s casual text.

Alec was also quickly discovering that he hated group hangs, especially group hangs that involved Magnus’s girlfriend. But he was determined, and a group hang seemed better than nothing; a foot in the door, if you will. Alec took what he could get.

Besides, Magnus’s friends seemed nice. Even Raphael, the short pale chips stealer, who got suave and charming after receiving his fill of snacks. There were also Ragnor, the dry-witted botanist on a hunt for unique indigenous flora, and Dr. Catarina “Call Me Cat” Loss. All of them, from what Alec had gathered, were skeptical about Camille. So, awesome people, really.

They weren’t entirely sold on Alec either, but strategy had always been his forte – he planned out a long, exhausting campaign. A botanical atlas was checked out from the library already, and Cat’s hospital would be throwing a blood donation rally during the upcoming weekend. Alec hasn’t yet figured out the angle to approach Raphael from, but it was bound to come to him eventually. Every good thing takes time and patience, as Maryse’s favorite saying went.

“And what are your plans for Pride this year, Alexander?” Magnus suddenly asked him. “Thinking about driving out to San-Francisco?”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Alec; Camille’s stare was so sharp, it might as well have gotten a cold weapon sound effect.

“Ah,” he gulped. “I- no. No. I enjoy my time here, it’s calmer, you know? I’m starting to realize now I was really tired of cities.”

Magnus nodded along in understanding. “We’re most likely going three towns over for a weekend; there’s a gay club there, ‘Pandemonium’. Maybe you could join us? Guys from all around the area usually show up, I’m sure we’ll be able to find someone for you to have fun with. That is, if you are willing to lower those high standards of yours for the occasion.”

The joke was gentle, just like the accompanying smile. Magnus’s lips were doll-like and soft-looking, painted with a no doubt sweet coral that would be sticky against Alec’s mouth. In a way that summer nights and ripe fruit and that really hot kind of dancing are sticky. Even an additional Camille appendage didn’t ruin the picture that was Magnus, relaxed against a backdrop of palm trees and fairy lights on this sunny Wednesday morning. Alec gulped again.

“It’s alright. I’m not really looking for anything right now. Trying to focus on myself and my career. But it would be nice to tag along and get to know all of you guys better.”

“Aw!” Said Raphael. Cat just silently transported one of the three Maraschino cherries in her possession to Alec’s glass.

Camille, though, hummed in suspicion. “Isn’t focusing on your career already the thing you’ve been doing your whole life?” She asked.

Her lips were painted the exact same color as Magnus’s, probably so that the pair could kiss and preserve their lipstick better.

Alec shrugged and said nothing more, but he could feel Magnus looking intently at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my story! Let me know what you think.
> 
> Disclaimer: English? I barely know her. And she bites back


End file.
